


blind offering

by tanyart



Series: Discounts for the Tribute Hall [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Doppelganger, Game: Destiny 2: Season of Opulence, M/M, Tribute Hall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21838066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: Drifter and Shin explore Calus' Tribute Hall. There's a Gambit Tribute in there that needs activating.
Relationships: The Drifter/Shin Malphur
Series: Discounts for the Tribute Hall [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600354
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	blind offering

**Author's Note:**

> This fic makes some references to the lore tabs in [Penumbral/Shadow's Cloak](https://www.ishtar-collective.net/entries/shadows-cloak-2) and [Shadow's Vest](https://www.ishtar-collective.net/entries/shadows-vest).
> 
> This was supposed to be a short thing and then it got away from me. Whoops.

“ _Omph_ ,” said Shin, after they had transmatted down, and that about summed it up.

The so-called _Tribute Hall_ was one helluva an eyesore, and they weren’t even in the main chamber yet. Drifter stared up at the towering golden statue of Calus, shining in all its gaudy splendor, and snorted. The temptation to spit at its feet was a real struggle to tamp down but Drifter was here as a guest and he wasn’t about to go on and risk pissing off that particular Guardian of his. Fuck Calus and all that, but if the Guardian wanted to help the emperor fill the hall with _Tributes —_ well, that was their perogative. So long as it wasn’t crossing any wires with Drifter’s own plans he could let it slide. 

Speaking of, it was sure a hoot to see the Guardian get cleaned out of their glimmer. Drifter laughed himself into wheezes when the Guardian had asked him for a loan. 

And why not? They were friends, weren’t they? Drifter had plenty enough glimmer to dole out and in return, the Guardian had given him free reign of whatever that wasn’t bolted to the Tribute Hall.

The doors behind the golden statue shuddered open, revealing the echoing chamber. Drifter let out a low whistle. He already had the pleasure of seeing the Leviathan’s usual decor beforehand and the Tribute Hall was more or less the same, but the fact that the whole affair was dedicated to one specific Guardian... _well._ Drifter couldn’t imagine liking someone that much, to put it lightly. He was sure Calus wanted a little _something-something_ more from the Guardian, but that went into a headspace Drifter sure as hell didn’t want to go into.

Beside him, Shin seemed less impressed. Then again, his feathers were still ruffled after Drifter had let slip he’d visited Calus alone for a little heart to heart. Drifter couldn’t see why, since Shin was never much interested in what Calus was up to. As far as Drifter was concerned, Shin’s only hobby was getting involved with Drifter’s life, whether he wanted him to or not.

At the very least, Shin made a good enough spotter. He took the first step into the Tribute Hall, gun in hand, and when the doors didn’t slam shut behind him, Drifter felt relatively better about following him in.

Sure was a lot of gold in there, scattered in piles all around the floor and shored up against the walls. Drifter toed a few of the pieces before picking one to weigh in his hand. He didn’t even bother with a scan from Ghost and flicked the piece away. Pretty and shiny, but ultimately worthless. No wonder the Guardian let him walk in unsupervised. 

Shin had wandered to one side of the chamber, checking out the line of flickering simulations. Each one of them stood on a pedestal at waist height, showcasing a sample of humanity’s current enemies — Cabal, Fallen, Hive. Drifter saw Shin poke at one of the fake Psions, his fingers going through the projection with a quiet buzz of purple static. 

“Huh,” said Shin, and reached across to toggle the display.

The Psion flickered and shimmered, the purple sheen of the simulation turning into real flesh and bone. 

Shin craned his head up. Waved a hand as far as it would go in front of the Psion. Still, the simulation didn’t move or acknowledge him.

Then, of course, Shin drew out his gun and shot it. Drifter saw it happen, faster than a blink, but he still twitched at the sound.

“The fuck was that for?” he snapped, not liking the reminder of just how fast Shin could pull a trigger.

The simulated Psion fell off the pedestal at Shin’s feet, only to disappear a moment later. A second simulation reappeared on the pedestal, just as unmoving and uncaring as the first one. 

Shin glanced back at him and shrugged, but he turned off the simulation. The Psion flickered back to pixelated purple once more. "Just curious."

There was something calculating in Shin’s eye. Drifter looked to the other side of the chamber and saw more empty pedestals. It seemed like the Guardian wasn’t quite finished yet. He resisted the urge to shudder. Something about the whole _museum-of-lifelike-targets_ didn’t sit right with him. 

The Tribute Hall said plenty enough about what Calus wanted the Guardian to be. Shin likely picked up on the same idea, and Drifter recalled the seemingly endless supply of ammo cartridges in the front entrance of the chamber. Neither him nor Shin took any of it, but things started to click together. The Tribute Hall was a killing room, a testing ground for all the possible ways the Guardian could murder for Calus’ pleasure.

Drifter shook his head. So maybe he was a mite jealous and impressed. Calus was one crazy sonuvabitch, but damn did he put his funds to good use. Drifter mulled over the idea of having simulation generators — he _might_ be able to make off with one of them, maybe — but at the same time, he sure as hell didn’t want to keep some weird Calus tech on the Derelict. He hoarded enough shit as it was, thanks.

Evidently bored of the Psion, Shin went to the back of the chamber, past the golden statues of a giant Ghost and a sparrow. Drifter kept one eye on him as he contemplated another simulation of a life-sized Ogre, but Shin tilted his head for a long moment at an empty pedestal, frowning.

Shin’s sharp interest in the pedestal caught Drifter’s attention more than anything else in the room. He turned away from the Ogre.

“Anythin’ catch your eye?”

Shin looked at him, gesturing to the pedestal. “This one says it’s a Gambit Tribute.”

Drifter felt his eyebrows go up. “Did our Guardian friend get to activating it?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. Costs a bunch of glimmer and motes, from the looks of it,” Shin replied, reading off the panel.

Drifter sauntered over, unease bubbling up enough to make him check it out. He _really_ didn’t like the idea of Calus paying any attention to Gambit. Bad enough the emperor thought to make a Tribute that had anything to do with Drifter in the first place.

The empty Gambit pedestal was a ways from the rest of the finished Tributes. If Drifter had to venture a guess, it seemed like the Guardian was working their way up to it. He read the command prompt on the pedestal and let out a bark of laughter at the price tag.

“No wonder our friend hasn’t gotten to it! Thing costs half a fortune,” he snickered. “Ah, well. At least I know their motes are going to me, and not some goblet-waving bastard.”

Shin made an agreeing noise, vague enough that Drifter was immediately suspicious. Sure enough, Shin’s wrist flicked, and between his fingers was a mote.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Drifter said, alarmed, “You’ve been hoarding _motes_?”

“Would’ve given them to you eventually,” Shin said, which unsettled Drifter even more. He slotted the mote into the pedestal, its little pinpoint icon blinking away to pull the rest of the sum. For an older Lightbearer like him, the glimmer component of the Tribute wasn’t anything to fuss over either. 

“Just leave it,” Drifter snapped, but Shin paid him little mind. He didn’t want to admit that he would’ve came back to the Tribute Hall alone to activate the Gambit Tribute himself. See what was up. And if he didn’t like it… well. He knew Calus was up to no good from the get-go; back when they had their private chat, Calus’ automatronic had stared into Drifter with flickering backlit eyes. Figured Calus got away with some kind of scan of him. 

The pedestal lit up, and just as Drifter guessed, a simulated copy of himself appeared in front of them, silent and unmoving, flickering purple.

A flare of anger shot up Drifter’s spine. ‘Course Calus would pull something like this, and he let him get away with it.

Shin looked more curious than disturbed. Then again, he wasn’t the one with the doppelganger. The empty stare of the simulation did seem to make him uncomfortable though. Shin spent a moment studying its blank expression before dropping his gaze with a frown. He toggled it on.

“Hey,” Drifter warned, strung up tight. His protest was halfhearted, morbid curiosity making him trail off.

The simulation’s holoform shuttered, turned itself into something more _solid_. It blinked, shoulders coming up as if it was taking its first breath of air then settled into a more neutral stance. A Gambit coin appeared between its fingers, and the simulation idly flipped it around its hand, unbothered by its baffled audience. 

Aside from the obvious purple sheen emitting from the simulation, Drifter would’ve been hard pressed to tell if he was staring into a mirror or not. The simulation was mimicking _his_ tics, _his_ habits. He tore his eyes away from it and scowled at Shin. “Shut that thing off. It creeps me the fuck out.”

The simulation looked down at him, catching the Gambit coin in its fist. The creak of leather from its gloves could've been the real thing. It smirked.

“Takes one to know one, pal,” it said in his voice, more perfect than listening to a recording.

Malfeasance was in Drifter’s hand before he knew it. He shot at the simulation. Three times. On the third slug, the simulation simply exploded.

Good to know it’d take three headshots to put him down. Bad to know the simulation’s last expression was frozen terror. Drifter reloaded the gun, _click click click_ — his hands were steady, and only because he was more pissed off than scared. Smoky tendrils of Darkness curled around his fingers, hungry for more.

The simulation’s blood had sprayed over Shin, shimmering gore clinging to his armor. Malfeasance was a pretty gun, but it wasn’t the cleanest when it bit into its mark. Shin had his own cannon out, pointed at the empty pedestal. 

For once, Drifter had the quicker draw — which meant Shin had hesitated. Drifter knew his own physical limits. He knew full well he couldn't beat Shin in a fair duel.

Shin slowly holstered his gun back to his hip. He wiped at the blood in his hair, grimacing when his fingers only passed through the flecks of broken holoform, and curled his hands as if he could feel the way the simulated blood dripped.

The simulation’s body disappeared, along with all the gore, then it fizzled back on the pedestal well and whole again. 

“You’re no fun,” it sneered at Drifter, and ducked down on its podium when Drifter raised his gun again. It drummed its heels against the pedestal, peering at Drifter from over Shin’s shoulder. 

It was using Shin as a shield. Hell, Drifter would’ve done the same and, shit, if admitting it didn’t piss him off even more.

He should’ve shot through Shin, really, but the simulation had hooked an ankle around the back of Shin’s thigh, reeling in him. Its attention went all on Shin.

“Hey, hotshot,” the simulation said, eyes glittering in a way that looked too wicked for Drifter’s liking. “Thanks for turning me on.”

“Ugh,” Shin said. He started to pull away, but the simulation grabbed at his collar. 

“Sit tight for a minute. I owe you one,” it said, voice rough, _deliberately_ rough, like it knew just how easy it was to get at him. 

Drifter knew it too, since he’d been using the same trick for months now. It wasn’t often he found himself hoping Shin wasn’t going to let himself get suckered in by such a stupid, obvious— 

The simulation kissed Shin, bold as brass, right on the mouth.

Drifter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Shin seemed no less surprised, his protest turning muffled against the simulation. 

And it wasn’t like Shin was paralyzed or poisoned or anything. He just plain didn’t do a single damn thing to stop the simulation. Matter of fact, the simulation took to deepening the kiss, hand coming up to hold the back of Shin’s head, and Shin leaned into it. 

Drifter saw it. He saw it _very_ clearly. “For fuck’s sake — _really?_ ”

Shin pulled back, just enough to break off the kiss but not enough to avoid letting the simulation give him a horrifically chaste peck at his cheek.

“What, you jealous?” it asked, sounding more mean than playful. It gave Shin a sly look, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “Betcha anythin', he’s jealous.”

Drifter ignored the simulation. “Shin, _hello_?”

Shin wasn’t the type to shuffle his feet, but he did look uncharacteristically flustered. Fingers twitchy, mouth a thin line. And while he might be flustered, Drifter knew plenty well how petty Shin could be. 

“Are you?” Shin asked. 

The worst part of all this nonsense — Shin sounded solemn, utterly serious about his question. Drifter would’ve rather had Shin be a spiteful little shit about it than honest.

He remained silent, which might’ve damned him, but while they were having their little staredown, the simulation bent towards Shin’s ear. 

“Hey,” Shin began, pulling away, but was shushed when the simulation laughed that low sort of laughed Drifter knew how to use to his advantage.

It started whispering, playing its hands along Shin’s sides. To Drifter’s horror, Shin started to flush at the neck from the attention. Shin, that rat _bastard_. Drifter couldn’t believe the Man of the Golden Gun was being seduced like this. 

What was the simulation even whispering about? What did it—never _mind_. Drifter could think of one or two things that would get Shin all hot and bothered. No doubt this fake copy was doing the same.

Except — well. Shin didn’t look turned on. Just a touch restless and red at the face, caught off guard and frowning over it. He grabbed the simulation by the wrist, stopping it.

“No,” said Shin, quiet, but Drifter saw how the word formed on his lips; unwavering and unhappy, and for some damned awful reason Drifter felt his chest pang hollow inside.

It definitely wasn’t jealousy. If Shin wanted to get his rocks off, he and Drifter could’ve left the Tribute Hall any time. Nah, _nah_ , the simulation was whispering other things. Something Drifter himself wasn’t willing to offer.

“No? Really now? How ‘bout this?” asked the simulation, turning its wrist in Shin’s hand. It glanced up at Shin, and Drifter couldn’t see its expression, didn’t _want_ to, but he could see Shin’s — just as the simulation leaned in close. 

It placed light kisses across Shin’s face with a gentleness Drifter would’ve never showed, much less given Shin. The fact that Shin was so taken in by it made Drifter’s stomach queasy

“You know what?” Drifter announced, tearing his eyes away, “Screw this. Good luck banging on that pedestal.”

He could hear Shin take a step back.

“I’m not gonna—”

The simulation interrupted with a bark of laughter. “You sure you don’t wanna join us, Drifter?” 

Shin notably paused, and that long pause made Drifter turn around.

“Didn’t know you were into that kinda thing, Shin,” Drifter said, and would’ve meant every mocking word of it, except the line of Shin’s body had gone all tense and alert, shoulders up and no longer touching the simulation.

“He might be, if it’s you,” said the simulation before it put its lips to Shin’s ear. “Despite everything, you’ve always been the optimistic kind. Always tempted by hope.”

Drifter swore the whole chamber went a few degrees colder. Shin glanced at the simulation, expression shuttering.

The simulation’s grin widened, and now it wasn’t even trying to copy any type of smile that Drifter would show. “So, even a charlatan of lies is plagued with one truth.”

Shin jerked back, but the simulation pulled him in again. It was difficult to tell what kept Shin rooted to the spot. Drifter didn’t want to think about how the simulation’s fingers brushed through Shin’s hair, like it would do any good to soothe him. Maybe it did. And maybe Drifter didn’t want to think anymore about it.

The simulation nuzzled at Shin’s cheek. “I wonder, how would your shadows fair against mine?”

It still spoke with Drifter’s voice, but the inflection had warped to Calus’ smoother cadence and grandiose words.

The hair at the back of Drifter’s neck stood on end. “ _Your_ shadows? What shadows?”

“Be quiet,” Shin said, still unmoving. There was no threat to his words, but his tonelessness slammed the icy weight of fear into Drifter’s stomach. The sound was Void-flecked and cold, eerie when Drifter had only ever known Shin to run Solar hot. “Calus, d’you want something, or are you just looking to fuck around with me?”

“I have only a question. Would you allow _my_ Shadow to kill you, if they said that you had to die?” the simulation pulled Shin forward, smiling Drifter’s smile, hand to Shin’s face. “That extraordinary Guardian you claimed. _My Shadow_. You left them with your will.”

“And?”

“Should you tread over that line you spoke of, would you let them put your Last Word to your head, so that you may have the honor of dying as Yor did, willing and waiting for the end?”

There was a dangerous pause. Shin’s expression went flat; “Nothing ends.”

He said it with such conviction it sounded like the truth.

"Nothing ends? Hah! But I have seen the end, Shin Malphur.” The simulation turned its head to look at Drifter, laughing like it was all a great entertainment. “ _And so has he_.”

There wasn’t a trace of Drifter in it anymore, but its hands were still touching Shin, not in any real way — not that it had been real in the first place, but there was no more playful pull with its legs around Shin’s waist, no more of that pretend gentleness as it stroked Shin’s hair.

Shin turned his gun to the podium. He didn’t even used a Golden Gun to shoot it, like it was beneath the effort to cast; he pulled the trigger of his cannon, bullet firing right through the control panel until the screen cracked and the simulation started to flicker.

Drifter saw himself die again, this time with an expression that was more exuberant than afraid. The simulation let out a quiet laugh, his own laugh and not Calus’, and threw Drifter a knowing look.

“Fuckin’ sicko,” Drifter muttered, though he wasn’t going to interrupt. He didn’t want to point out that Shin should’ve just shot at the simulation, but Shin never did point his gun at it, not even once. That realization hit an uncomfortable nerve, at the edge of a revelation Drifter didn’t think he would like. 

Three more shots rang out, with Shin’s arm plunged deep within the podium’s tech. Shin watched the simulation die, unblinking as it broke apart in a shower of sparks. He withdrew his arm, fingers smoking around his gun.

Shin shook out his hand, clearing away the ash, and flicked his wrist to upturn a Gambit token in his palm. Drifter stared, but Shin only placed a jade coin on top of the broken podium, Cabal side up.

For all the anger in his eyes and the quick trigger work, Shin looked strangely calm. Even his blazing Light felt like it had less of his usual spitfire Solar temper, and the very air around him was more tranquil and frozen like the Void.

“Let Calus know he’ll have to come up with another way to make a Gambit Tribute,” Shin said to the room at large. His voice carried.

Drifter kicked at a stray piece of the podium, just to disrupt the echo with another one. “Okay, cool. So why the hell didn’t you do that earlier?”

“Its hands felt like yours,” Shin muttered, pushing past Drifter towards the exit.

Looks like they were done, and not a single piece of good loot to show for it. Drifter blew out a sigh and followed after Shin. They got to the giant statue before Drifter made up his mind and grabbed Shin’s wrist.

It was like touching ice, even through the armor. But getting burned from the cold wasn’t anything new to Drifter so he didn’t pay it any mind. He tugged Shin closer, and let go when Shin refused to budge. Maybe he was more bothered by Calus’ words than he let on.

Drifter glanced at the big statue. It remained silent and still, but he doubt Calus had truly left them alone. This was his domain, after all.

But what the hell. Fuck it. 

“Calus doesn’t lie,” Drifter said, nudging Shin with an elbow. _Not like you_ , _not like us._ “But he’s delusional. Can’t separate the truth from what goes on in that nihilistic head of his.”

Shin didn’t say anything. Drifter wouldn’t be surprised if he was being ignored, what with Shin’s habit of burrowing into his own head, but the hard look in Shin’s eyes started to ease up by a bit.

“He’s crazy, you know?” Drifter continued, surprised by his own honesty. “I haven’t seen the end. Not yet. I just saw the thing that brings it. There’s a difference.”

Shin still wasn’t looking at him, but his voice was rueful, “Sounds like you have hope.”

“Didn’t say a thing about having hope.”

The corner of Shin’s mouth hitched up. “Lemmie guess; just being practical.”

And Drifter had to admit, Calus was right about some things. Shin was a sucker for the idea of hope, or whatever he considered as hope. Drifter could never agree with it, but that was all going to be on them, when the end came.

Drifter took Shin by the wrist again, found the warmth coming back in slow increments at his fingertips, and then more as Shin finally looked his way. 

“Let’s get out of here.”


End file.
